Archives for posts with tag: mindful living
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Dear Spammers

September 27, 2015 //
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It’s time I took a moment for you, I suppose. You’ve been stepping up your game lately, and dropping lots more comments on my blog. I’m sure you have a job to do, and the money must be worth it to you (or you haven’t yet determined that it is not). Two things, though: first, and this is important if you hope to have any of your comments remain in place, your comments will reliably be deleted if they are not specific to the subject matter of my blog, and reflect clearly that you have actually read that post, and understand it in some way. I moderate my comments pretty strictly, and the spam settings are strict enough to occasionally filter out comments from real people – so of course, I check them all. Secondly, and this one is entirely irrelevant to me, personally, but I do have to note that if you are dropping random irrelevant comments on blogs that are simply entirely unrelated, that also have strong spam filter settings, you aren’t really living up to your end of the bargain with  your employer, are you? I mean, I suspect businesses think you are driving additional traffic their way, or bringing clicks to their links, and… well… if your Forex trading link is in the comments on my blog, you’re not at all. Just figured I’d call that one out, too.

Still, every now and then, I actually struggle to delete one of your spammy comments – because it is written such that it seems to indicate you actually read the post. Not some generic ‘this could be a response to anything’ sort of comment, and not a comment so off the mark you clearly did not read the post, the blog description, or even look at the header or title…but a real, actually fairly specific, comment on what I’ve written…yep, you occasionally step away from the norm and say something real. Those are harder to delete, and I’ve let one or two stay, as a courtesy – because you read what I wrote, and it mattered enough for you to say something about that on your spammy link comment. It’s time you know the rules to this game I’m playing; if you’re real, your comment might stay. If you actually read what I’m writing, and I can tell, I consider keeping your comment – even if the link is for Viagra, walk-in tubs, car window replacement, Forex trading tips, or how to win one’s social security disability case. If you are just dropping spam like bunny turds in a meadow, I hit ‘delete permanently’ without hesitation or a second thought. High volume spammers get the bonus courtesy of having their address blocked, too, as a measure of self-care efficiency for me.

A chilly autumn morning, an opportunity to reflect on what is needed, and what is not, and sort things out.

A chilly autumn morning, an opportunity to reflect on what is needed, and what is not, and sort things out.

It’s a lovely morning. My coffee is hot and tasty. I’m in pain, enough to distract me from a lot of small pleasant things, but not enough to ruin my morning entirely. Tons of spam comments this morning, though… It’s a good day to delete bullshit. Any sort of bullshit, really, it’s a nice day to clear away clutter of all sorts, spam or otherwise. A nice day to let go of baggage, to restore order, to sort things out, and haul away what isn’t needed. This could be a metaphor. For now? Just words over coffee.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Small Disruptions

September 23, 2015 //
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I am sipping my coffee and feeling fairly comfortable with change, although somewhat uneasy. I got a call yesterday, late in the afternoon, that the A/C needs to come out of my window right away so that contractors can replace my front window – something I expected would be done in the spring. Caught by surprise during a busy work day, I felt overwhelmed, and I’ll admit it, frightened. No real reason. Generally, beyond the tantrums and the freak outs, I’ve got this. I am very adaptable, but I also find changes to my ‘safe space’, my  personal environment, my haven from chaos and damage, to be incredibly disruptive. It’s not so bad this time. I emailed my traveling partner, uncertain whether I would need his help, but knowing his counsel would be valuable regardless, and then gave the matter further thought.

In minutes, and with the help of a couple of deep breaths, and a perspective-providing reminder in the form of an exceedingly complicated spreadsheet I was contentedly in the midst of updating, I realized, again, “I’ve got this.” The panic itself is the bigger issue sometimes. Many times. (All of the times?) This morning I am calmly sipping coffee, and content that things are handled…and more than a little curious about the new window. Will it be much better at keeping out spiders than the previous window? Bonus! In the meantime, I have arranged to have the landlord remove the A/C, which needs to come out for the year, anyway.  (Now I just have to figure out where the hell to store it over the winter – space is limited here.)

Still, the whole ‘replacing the windows’ thing pushes my issues with having my safe space disturbed into the foreground. I think of it as only an issue with changes that are imposed upon me, rather than selected, but experience suggests otherwise, and the “consequences” are not always immediate, and sometimes linger for some days or weeks until I feel settled into whatever was changed. New windows and a new patio door may change the ambient sounds of the apartment, and if so, may tend to affect my sleep, or sense of safety, for example. I don’t predict or expect it these days, but I know the risk is there, and I observe as the experience unfolds.

Small things matter; it irritates me to see a stack of paintings now in a view of the room that generally includes the fireplace, but instead now shows off how many of my paintings are not hanging. lol I often just don’t look to the corner of the room where those paintings usually sit. I find myself irked with my own irritation; I could choose to deal with the surplus paintings quite differently. Should I be looking at my budget with an eye on climate controlled storage? Fuck life is expensive sometimes. “Less clutter would be good…” I think to myself with annoyance. Recalling that the ‘clutter’ is art, paintings that I don’t have room to hang, grates on my nerves. For a prolific artist, there is no living arrangement with enough wall space to hang everything. I take a moment to sooth myself with the recollection of past delight with being able to rotate my displayed art with the changing seasons, or rearrange it for holidays, and how lovely it is to be able to hang work that reflects my mood, or changes in life, and how much I love it when I sell a piece that was hanging – and can easily fit something different into that place on the wall. I’m okay. I’m just having my windows replaced. 🙂

Today I'm not making this complicated.

Today I’m not making this complicated.

Change? I got this. Today that’s enough. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Waiting for Coffee

September 17, 2015 //
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I am awake. Showered. I’ve meditated. I’ve done some yoga. It is morning, and the start of a new day. I am waiting for coffee, listening to the ticks, pings, and pops of the electric burner heating the goose-neck kettle, and the water within. There is nothing much else going on in this moment right here. I hear a freight train, some distance away, and the woosh of traffic on the main road, nearer by, and the percussive chiming of raindrops on the chimney cover – sounds of morning. I am here, listening, and waiting for coffee.

Sometimes it's a metaphor - sometimes it is just a cup of coffee. :-)

Sometimes it’s a metaphor – sometimes it is just a cup of coffee. 🙂

My coffee this morning is hot, still to hot to drink. The cup warms my hands – I type a few words, stop and hold the cup awhile, and return to this page, fingers poised over the keyboard…still this feeling of waiting… I am also waiting to see my traveling partner, a thread of loving woven into the fabric of my experience, even when we are separated by distance and a head cold. I am also gently waiting for new ideas and changed thinking to settled into all the corners of my consciousness; the meditation, study, and reading over the weekend, and the conversation with my therapist yesterday, are now all mixed together. I know that waiting will end, in each one of these cases, with time – it is the only thing that ends waiting, besides choosing not to wait.

I am pleased that the rain has returned. I enjoy rain. My walk to work is temporarily detoured along the main thoroughfare while a bridge across the creek that runs through the park is replaced. It is no great inconvenience to make the change, but the result is a far less naturally lovely walk. The current commute takes me through a parking lot, then down a long length of sidewalk between commuter traffic, and signs of humankind’s careless (I am puzzled that people litter, honestly), then I turn back to the remainder of the usual walk through the business park, with landscaped beauty that changes with the seasons thanks to the labors of a vast crew of landscapers who rip out all the flowers in the flower beds 2 times a  year to replace them with other ones. It strikes me as both cruel and wasteful – but the flower beds are always lovely and well-kept. I’m sure there’s a metaphor there, among the flowers or the between the raindrops. I realize it would serve me well to get my raincoat out today, for the walk to work, and wonder if the traffic will be close enough to risk being splashed as I walk along.

On chilly mornings I see bumblebees sleeping among the flowers.

On chilly mornings I see bumblebees sleeping among the flowers.

This morning is a quiet pleasant morning. I am entirely okay with that; it is enough.

Today is a good day to enjoy each moment as is it is. Today is a good day to savor the beauty in the ordinary, and savor even those moments that seem wholly unremarkable. Today is a good day to share a smile and be uplifted by those simple things I love the most – even if only a good cup of coffee, on a rainy morning.

 

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being

Experiencing Change

September 14, 2015 //
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The weekend was an exceptional blend of meditation, study, growth, inspiration, and relaxation. Now it is over. I’m okay with that; it puts me one day closer to seeing my traveling partner again. His weekend is over, too. Soon we’ll get together, and linger over the sharing of individual experiences, telling tales, reflecting on growth, laughing, commiserating, and cheering each other on in life. Funny thing about good weekends and my brain, I slept very restlessly last night, waking every 90 minutes or so concerned that I might somehow miss the alarm, checking the clock, and returning to sleep. By 4:15 am, I was done talking myself into more sleep, and went ahead and got up to take on the day.

A different coffee, on another morning, and thinking of love.

A different coffee, on another morning, and thinking of love.

Something ‘clicked’ for me yesterday, and I find myself on what feels like very firm ground, as an emotional being. Calmer from deeper within, more centered, more patient with myself and the world, and capable of acting from a place that leverages the full measure of my 52 experience-rich years. Something a step beyond comfortably me… and I wonder if it will ‘last’, and what it requires to nurture this feeling and build on it? I sip my coffee and quietly contemplate all the many sorts of changes human beings experience in a lifetime, those that are evident to everyone, and those that are less so. I find myself wanting to greet Monday differently… something like “How was your weekend? Mine? Oh, I’m changed…”  That’s not the sort of thing one generally does. I find myself wondering why not…?

Between the practicing and the studying, the growth happens. Sometimes it is something I can feel, or be specifically aware of, sometimes it is more subtle. There are no rules about how this thing called life must progress, or how we grow as human beings, or what kind of time and effort that takes; we are each having our own experience. We can fight it off, if we choose. I’ve tried that, too, and found it frustrating, unsatisfying, and in some cases more than a little damaging. I’ve learned over time that growth isn’t the result of forcing myself to trudge through life from one externally imposed goal to another, or working my ass off to achieve some vision of me someone else holds. Growth is the result of waking up and realizing I don’t need someone else’s goals or guidelines to find my way – understanding why that is, and becoming my own cartographer. Growth is finding satisfaction in the experience I am having, myself, and learning to enact change based on my own vision of who I am along the way. Growth is waking up to how much of the baggage I carry is self-imposed, and setting at least that much down, and walking on. And doing it again when I noticed I’ve picked it back up, and repeating as needed until, over time, I’ve left it behind. I’m feeling pretty good about growth this morning. 🙂

Seems to be very effective so far... probably doesn't hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

Truth is, I feel pretty good in general this morning, except for the pain – which I haven’t mentioned, because I ‘didn’t notice it’ (meaning only that it wasn’t prominent in my consciousness, and I wasn’t giving it any attention). The alarm went off a moment ago (I got up early, but didn’t think to turn it off) and, in movement, the pain and the stiffness of my arthritic spine shifted to a more obvious place in my awareness. Aging has some pretty annoying elements to it; the pain and stiffness of my arthritis top my list of things that annoy me about aging, this morning. I am confronted with an irrefutable demonstration of the difference between ‘growth’ and ‘aging’.

I pause to reflect on growth and aging, and wonder if medical science has advanced enough to rationally consider 120 a realistically achievable lifespan… If so, I’m less than ‘half way’… that promises so much more growth, so many more experiences, so much more learning, and so much more love! I’m not even having to start the second half with a completely unformed consciousness – it’s like a head start! Only… what if this is the ‘completely unformed consciousness’ with which we do approach our mature years? I mean… I am significantly different in thoughts, values, and experiences than I was at birth, and it seems likely that I will be a similar order of magnitude different at the other end of this experience, given continued growth, learning, and experiences. Is ‘getting old’ more a matter of stopping growth, or slowing it down, than it is additional years of age? There seems to be some support for that in the science…certainly there is very firm encouragement to keep walking, to keep reading, to keep learning, to keep loving…all these things slow cognitive decline. (Are you still quite young, and reading this? Plan ahead! Live now. The future will come to you.)

Meditating, sketching, writing... feeling loved along the way...

A weekend spent meditating, sketching, writing… feeling loved along the way…

...taking time for study, and reading for pleasure...

…taking time for study, and reading for pleasure…

...taking time for pleasure, and the occasional moment of self-indulgence...

…taking time for pleasure, and the occasional moment of self-indulgence…

The weekend seemed almost eternal, and still it manages to be over too soon – but my needs are met, and that is a wonderful feeling. More wonderful still, I met my needs myself, with some lovely sprinkles of affection and connection with my traveling partner and friends. There are things to learn from that, and I face the week feeling more emotionally self-sufficient, and what is becoming, over time, quite typically content. Two years ago I would not have dared set expectations with myself of being in the place I find myself today…a year ago, it might have seemed possible in some remote theoretical way, but self-doubt, insecurity, fear, and stress were not just holding me back – they made it tough to see further down the path than tomorrow. Even Thursday, I might have said ‘someday, sure…’ and didn’t realize I might feel the way I do as soon as ‘now’. It’s very much a ‘now’ thing, too. I’m comfortable not making assumptions about how I will feel tomorrow, or whether every day of my future will feel similarly; this is a human experience, and change is part of that. There will no doubt be opportunities for future doubts, fears, and insecurities, and surely I will find myself, now and again, at a loss for words, feeling awkward, or just fucking clueless in some moment when certainty would have value. I’m okay with all of that. I have more room to grow, to learn, and to experience life’s curriculum. I am okay with only being as wise as I actually am…and I am ready to embrace being every bit as wise as I have grown to be, without second-guessing that, or being discouraged by other voices. (Yes, there are verbs involved, and yes, I expect my results may vary.)

Today is a good day for being, and for becoming. Today is a good day to accept the woman in the mirror precisely as she is, without holding her back from change and growth in the future. Today is a good day to build on the strength of experience, and to recognize that there is room to grow – always room to grow. Today is a good day to treat every being well, including the woman in the mirror. Today is a good day to change the perspective from which I view the world.

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Categories art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

More About Perspective

September 8, 2015 //
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The long weekend is over. I sit with my coffee cup warming my hands for some minutes, considering the weekend behind me, the short work week ahead of me, and the weekend yet to be experienced on the other side. Each moment worthy of my attention, even those yet to come…and I am not  yet 100% awake, so my mind wanders easily between past and future without making clear distinctions between the two. It’s good creative space; I take notes.

I enjoyed a lovely visit with my traveling partner yesterday, in the morning, and the warmth and depth of our connection fueled my creativity further, as well as putting a smile on my face that lingered throughout the day. I woke still smiling this morning. Love is pretty amazing stuff. “So is coffee…” I think to myself irreverently, sipping my coffee warming my hands with the mug. It’s in some of these small moments of pleasure and comfort that I find myself wondering how things ever get to be difficult, complicated, and stressful… The simple pleasure in the warmth of a porcelain coffee mug in my hands on a chilly not-yet-autumn morning seems so solid, so real, so potentially lasting…so sustainable. How is it that it sometimes does not last, or isn’t so easily sustained?

Simple pleasures are as worthy of attention as grand moments of excitement or delight - and far more commonplace.

Simple pleasures are as worthy of attention as grand moments of excitement or delight – and far more commonplace.

I think about perspective, this morning, and I think about the choices I make – to hold the warmth of a coffee mug deliberately in my awareness, lingering over the simple pleasure, savoring the moment, or to let it slip out of my consciousness, swept away by some other experience, perhaps more intense, or less pleasant… I could choose to hold on to this moment, this mug, this warmth, and keep my focus there a little longer, letting stress wait its turn, couldn’t I? (It’s a rhetorical question. Yes, obviously I could…I’m suggesting that doing so has value.) I can hold this mug, feel this warmth, sit with this smile of contentment tugging at my lips… or… I could also let the awareness of my back pain take me over completely, feeling the nausea that sometimes goes along with my morning medication, more than I feel the warmth of the mug. It’s not that being aware of the warmth of the coffee cup in my hand acts as an effective pain-killer; it doesn’t, and there’s no point pretending. The thing is, though, and it seems worthy to observe it, the general quality of my experience moment to moment is much improved if I allow room for the experience of this warm mug, fully committed to the experience of the moment, present, here, right now. The pain I am often in is not the most important thing about my experience. It’s just one element of many.

Unfinished work?

Unfinished work? “Uplifted Hearts” I think a lot about love.

I smile, continue to sip my coffee, continue to linger pleasantly over memories of the weekend. I consider how best to take care of my needs this week, and over time, and whether to invest more of my time in living beautifully, or taking advantage of inspiration to continue painting during limited weekday leisure. It’s an interesting choice to have. I look around my home in the light of morning, and admit frankly that ‘the artist within’ doesn’t do her share of tidying up; tonight, at least, will be tending home and hearth and ensuring I am living the life I most enjoy, with the greatest ease I can provide for myself. It’s no difficult decision, and once made my thoughts move on.

Alternate lighting, another perspective on

Alternate lighting, another perspective on “Uplifted Hearts”, and on love.

I sit quietly this morning, considering how much of my joy I choose for myself, and how much of my misery is similarly chosen. I make so many choices that direct where I invest my will, and my emotions. Changing my choices has changed a lot about my day-to-day experience. I live quietly, and generally quite calmly, in this simple small place that meets my needs without a lot of fuss or fanfare. This morning, I find myself content, rational, and yes… happy. It’s a nice beginning to the work week, and the day.

Today is a good day for simple pleasures, and small successes. Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to treat myself as well as I know how – and to similarly treat others well; good will, merriment, and an uplifted heart nourish something deep within me. Today is a good day to invest in joy – this, too, is a choice I make; it is a choice than can change the world.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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